To Keep A Promise
by Opal Rain Dragon
Summary: Harry has made an impossible promise to Draco and he doesn't know how he can keep it when everything is slowly falling to pieces around them. Can he face down his demons - both inside and outside - and conquer the darkness enveloping the world? Or will he fail? Sequel to When the Snow Melts.
1. Safe and Sound

**Author's Notes: This is a sequel to When the Snow Melts. If you haven't read that one yet, I highly recommend that you do. Otherwise, you'll be horribly lost. The same warnings from that story will apply here. Please remember to comment, favorite, and add this story to your favorites. It will really help me find motivation when I feel like the world is falling to shit around me.**

 **Also, thanks everyone for helping me get When the Snow Melts into 4th place for the #drarry tag on Wattpad. It was only for a week, but it was a huge ego boost.**

 **Lots of love - OpalRainDragon**

"Draco, look - I'm doing it," Farren gleefully shouted from atop a galloping white and chocolate-brown mare as he slowly moved to stand. Harry, his face lit up with a brilliant smile, followed closely behind on a sandy-colored stallion that seemed to blend in with the rolling yellow hills behind them.

With a roll of his eyes, Draco retreated from the sweltering summer heat, taking refuge under the shade of an ancient oak tree where he could draw in peace. It was late afternoon already, but apparently the sun hadn't gotten the message. A completely useless charmed fan by his side blew stifling hot and humid air directly into his face.

He let out a disgusted sigh and glanced back longingly at the sweet relief of air conditioning just waiting for them inside the secluded ranch house they'd been using as a safe house. It was so close, he was even willing to tolerate the disaster that passed for accommodations just to have a taste of it. He just wasn't cut out for Central Texas living.

Unfortunately, Farren and Harry seemed to be enjoying themselves, even going so far as to offer their assistance with some of the daily chores.

The two of them had even managed to guilt Draco into volunteering to collect eggs one morning. It had seemed like an easy enough task until he had been forced to flee in terror as the little monsters swarmed him, demanding food by clawing and pecking at his delicate skin in a wild frenzy.

After the initial trauma had worn off, a passionate hatred for the foul-tempered poultry had blossomed. He sincerely felt with every fiber of his being that they deserved to be eaten. He even got a little flutter of happiness every time they were on the menu, tearing into his meal with a gleeful vengeance, shoving down more than he could stomach out of pure spite. Come what may, he was going to have the final laugh in this situation.

In his place, Farren had taken over egg-collecting duties, explaining to Draco with a smug expression on his indecently tanned face, that he needed to throw feed out on the yard first so most of the chickens vacated the hen house before venturing inside. Draco was unimpressed and unwilling to give it a second try. He was ill-suited for these kinds of things anyway.

"Draco, come join us," Harry suggested teasingly as he steered his horse around. "It's actually a lot of fun."

Draco's silvery eyes narrowed in suspicion as he watched his lover's galloping approach. "I'd rather not die, thank you," Draco growled in irritation, his attention now solidly focused on the mangy, straw-colored beast.

Said beast pulled up short just yards away from Draco and let loose an impatient snort that set his nerves on edge. Just like the chickens, the horses weren't very fond of him either. Animals in general just seemed to dislike him. It had been like that for as long as he could remember. That's why they never had any pets or familiars.

Harry dismounted and gave the horse free-reign to trot away before plopping himself down under the ancient oak tree next to Draco, his warm, sweaty body uncomfortably close.

"Please get away from me; you smell terrible," Draco griped with a wrinkle of his nose, the stench of horse and sweat and summer heat overpowering his senses.

Harry laughed and leaned in closer, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You don't smell much better," Harry teasingly replied. "Maybe we should help each other in the shower… really make sure we get all the nooks and crannies."

Despite his sour mood and the stench, Draco found himself fighting back a smile at the thought. "I suppose it can't be helped," he stated with a dramatic flourish.

Harry gave him a hungry grin before turning his attention back to the field, his eyes following Farren as the boy turned his horse in their direction.

"Oi, Farren. Draco and I are heading inside to wash up before dinner. Think you can handle stabling the horses by yourself or do you need my help?" Harry called out.

"I can do it," Farren shouted back, an excited smile lighting up his face.

Draco frowned as his brother took off, chasing down Harry's horse and leaning out to grab the reins. "Are you sure about that?" Draco asked in a voice just above a whisper. "It might be dangerous."

A proud smile spread across Harry's face when the boy finally caught hold of the other horse's reins and slowed him down to a leisurely trot. "He's doing just fine," Harry stated with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Besides, he's eleven, not three. I was doing a lot more dangerous things at his age, so stop babying him."

"Yeah, but your whole life has been wrought with dysfunction, so how does that even make sense? I just want to keep him safe," Draco shot back. In all honesty, Farren might very well be the only family he had left. No one had heard anything so far about their parents.

"There's nothing to worry about. He's really good at this sort of stuff," Harry wrapped an arm around Draco's shoulders and pulled him in close to whisper playfully in his ear. "And unlike you, the horses like him."

Draco scoffed and shoved him away. "I don't need the approval of dumb beasts to feel good about myself," he arrogantly replied.

Farren moved confidently across the grounds, but even still Draco had serious misgivings about leaving the boy alone unsupervised. His mother had entrusted his care to him, but as Harry had said, he seemed to know what he was doing. With a resigned sigh, Draco stood and headed to the house.

He made his way carefully through the shrub brush, small clouds of red dust kicking up behind him with every step. There was a noticeable crunching sound as Harry followed, crushing sun-crisped grass underfoot just a few feet behind him. Draco fought the urge to turn around and glare at Harry. He couldn't let the boy get too full of himself.

The view of the safe house at the top of the hill was rather unimpressive - a small, three-bedroom ranch house with a large porch looking out on shrubland dotted infrequently with scraggly trees. The oak tree near the horse pasture was the largest tree on the property and it likely only got that big because of the stock pond lying right next to it. Everything else seemed in desperate need of water, all of it, including himself, baking under the hot summer sun.

Their hosts, the Hughes', had actually lived in that house about a decade ago, but the family had lucked out during an oil boom and made a small fortune on the treasure lying under the soil of their ranch. They'd had a larger house built on the property and put up a small wind farm to keep the money flowing. They'd even given up cattle ranching entirely, but had kept the horses and pigs… and unfortunately, the chickens.

The steps of the porch groaned under his weight as he trudged up them and headed for the door. Likewise, the door itself squealed in protest as he roughly yanked it open. The house gave every impression of being tired and old.

"How do people even live like this?" he grumbled, spinning around in the hallway to look Harry in the eyes.

Behind the sparkling brilliance of dust moats catching the light of the sun shining through the front door, Harry snorted in amusement. "Don't be such a snob. This is how normal people live."

Draco crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "It's disgusting. I can't wait until we get back to civilization. Where did the Headmaster even find these muggles anyway?"

"No clue," Harry replied with a shrug. "He said something about having a mutual friend. But, it's not like we have people lining up to host us or anything. The Chosen One and the son of a Death Eater turned traitor. Yep, loads of people want to bring that sort of hazard into their life. You should try being a little more grateful. If not for the Hughes' kindness, we'd have been stashed away in St. Mungos all summer with your little brother slowly driving us insane out of sheer boredom."

Harry moved to pull him into a tight hug, but Draco held him at bay, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "Not until after you've had a shower," he admonished.

"Thought you were going to help me?" Harry questioned with a devilish smirk.

"Did I? I'm not sure I remember making any such commitment."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly before turning to leave. "That's fine. I'll just go see if David wants to help me instead. I've got this really itchy mosquito bite right between my shoulder blades where I can't reach. I'm sure he'll be glad to scratch it for me while we're at it."

David was the Hughes middle child, just a few years older than the boys, and staying at the Main House while on summer break from college. He had a certain rugged charm about him, but Draco was fairly certain he was not interested in men.

"Now that I'd like to see," Draco remarked, but when Harry made a move for the door with a smug and determined expression on his face, Draco stopped him, taking him by the hand and dragging him to the Master Bedroom that they'd been sharing. "On second thought, he's probably never done something like that before and he might miss some spots. I don't want to have to clean you a second time when he finally returns you."

Harry let out a warm chuckle as he was dragged upstairs, through the cramped Master bedroom and into the Master bathroom where Draco finally stopped with an exasperated expression on his face.

He kept his eyes on Harry as they undressed, pointedly ignoring the hideous pink tiles that surrounded them. Hearty food and manual labor had added several layers of lean muscle to Harry's shorter frame. Despite Draco frequently grumbling about protecting his skin from sun damage, he had to admit that Harry looked good with bronzed skin. He looked good even though his tan made the criss-cross of scars all over his body painfully obvious.

Biting his lip to keep his cool, he crossed over the porcelain clawfoot tub and turned the water on. The water came out of the tap almost warm enough to shower in so Draco quickly undressed and stepped in before Harry had a chance to. He had a complicated shower routine and he didn't quite trust Harry to manage it. It would be easier just to get things over and done with so he could move on to the more pleasing task of scrubbing down his lover. He'd initially been horrified to learn that Harry used some off-brand muggle 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner abomination. His messy hair suddenly made a lot more sense. Those products met their end shortly thereafter and were immediately replaced with something better suited to his needs.

The shower head was low and he found he had to duck down to get the water to run over his hair. It was at that precise moment while he was leaning forward that Harry joined him, wrapping strong arms around his waist. Harry held him tight, preventing the tumble that surely would have occurred otherwise, his breath warm against the back of Draco's neck.

"What's the matter?" Harry whispered huskily.

Draco's heart was still pounding from the sudden spike of adrenaline. "You," he scolded, "if you want to leave me for David, you don't have to kill me first. We can just break up like normal human beings."

"Is that how it works?" he questioned, pulling Draco flush against his chest as he tried to squirm out of his embrace. "But you said it yourself, he won't get me as clean as you can."

"So you're just using me for my showering skills?" Draco questioned in an aggrieved tone of voice. "I thought you loved me."

"Showering skills... and other things," he replied suggestively, running a hand along Draco's lean chest.

Draco turned around to face Harry, a mischievous smirk on his face. "By other things, do you mean this?" he questioned, slowly dropping to his knees to take Harry's hard cock into his mouth with a slight sucking action.

Harry let out a deep moan, his fingers running through Draco's hair. "Something… something like… that," he replied between moans.

Draco continued to work his tongue along Harry's length, his head bobbing up and down, his hands holding him steady at the hips to prevent him from bucking unexpectedly. Draco backed off slightly, concentrating on the sensitive head and sucking hard, his tongue swirling around for added stimulation. He could feel the tension building up in his lover's body, his muscles tightening under his hands - Harry was close.

Harry's hips jerked with a rapturous cry, his passion erupting into Draco's hungry mouth. The taste had changed slightly - tangy and a bit bitter. Even still, Draco swallowed it down, continuing to suck until he had pulled every last drop, until Harry was twitching and jerking, his knees trembling as he struggled to stay standing.

"Was that a good enough reason to keep me around?" Draco questioned with a sly smile on his face as he peered up at him through wet bangs. Harry could only nod, his fingers still tightly entwined in Draco's hair to keep himself steady.


	2. Blue Skies and Clean Living

Having dinner with the Hughes' reminded Harry of having dinner with the Weasley's - albeit a lot less chaotic as there were fewer people and nothing magical flying about. They had three children in total - two boys in their early twenties named David and Thomas and 'a happy little accident' they named Samantha who was just turning ten.

The boys looked so similar that they could have passed for twins - dark hair and dark eyes, tall, boxy, slightly rugged features, and sun-browned skin - it was astonishing to learn that there was a three year age gap between them. Their sister, however, didn't look like she belonged in the family at all. She was petite with wispy strawberry blond hair and hazel eyes that often sparkled with mischief.

Mr. and Mrs. Hughes were an odd match as well - complete opposites really. Sherman Hughes was rail-thin and bald with muddy brown eyes, while Agnes Hughes was pleasantly plump with long gray hair that she often wore loose and sky-blue eyes. They didn't interact much, but when they did, you could almost sense the depth of their feelings for one another. It made Harry slightly envious knowing that he'd never live long enough to experience that with Draco.

The table had grown quiet, Mrs. Hughes' nervous eyes kept darting to the doorway, waiting for the last of her children to finish washing up and come downstairs to join them so they could start eating.

"Sorry I'm late," Thomas apologized sheepishly as he took a seat at the table. "Javier had a group down from Dallas that wanted to go on a guided hunting trip. He was short-handed today and asked me to help him out. Those dumbasses…" he winced as his mother shot him a warning look before continuing. "...they thought spear-hunting wild boar while drinking was a wonderful idea."

He scooped a huge serving of mashed potatoes onto his plate and passed the dish down with a shake of his head. "It didn't end well. One of them froze up and took a tusk to the knee. It got pretty nasty and we had to put the boar down with a shotgun."

Thomas began smiling fondly at the memory, totally oblivious to the horrified expression on Draco's blood-drained face. They'd all seen quite a few wild boars on the property by that point.

"City-boy'll probably be fine though," Thomas announced with a chuckle. "Once he heals, he'll have a mean-looking scar that he can use to pick up chicks with."

Harry watched as Draco nervously eyed the bloody slab of brisket on his plate, no doubt envisioning one of those wild boars out in the field catching them wandless and unaware.

A deep rumble of thunder off in the distance broke up the prolonged silence. Mrs. Hughes glanced out the big bay window of the dining room as she set down a basket of rolls.

"Should've figured we was gonna get rain - my head's been aching all day," she commented, her blue eyes studying the dark clouds rolling in from the south. "Looks like it's gonna be a mean one too. You boys should hurry up and eat so you can get back before it starts pouring."

Harry nodded, stabbing his fork into a mountain of fried veggies, and bringing them to his mouth. The air felt electric, a trickle of excitement ran through him at the prospect of another summer thunderstorm. A deep rumble reverberated through his chest and he sighed in anticipation before tackling the thick slab of brisket that Draco had snuck onto his plate.

Draco continued eyeing his food in a rather dispassionate manner, his nose wrinkled up as he watched bacon grease dripping off the green beans at the end of his fork.

"Dip em' in the mashed potatoes," David suggested, probably thinking that it was the green beans that Draco found offensive rather than the thick layer of grease that coated them. He was utterly convinced that all this greasy food would ruin his skin.

Harry polished off the last of his food, secretly relishing the grease and strong seasoning before turning a bright smile on Mrs. Hughes. "Thank you for the wonderful meal. Everything was just amazing," he gushed, drawing attention to himself long enough for Draco to wandlessly vanish most of the remaining food on his plate.

Draco clinked his fork rather noisily down on his plate with a heavy sigh. "Yes, thank you for the food. I am so full that I couldn't possibly eat another bite."

Mrs. Hughes beamed at them both as Harry stood, picking up his plate to take it to the kitchen. She waved a hand dismissively in their direction. "Just leave em' boys. I'll do the cleanin' up later. You need to get going before that storm gets here."

Farren stuffed the last bit of his roll into his mouth, his cheeks puffed up as he attempted to chew his food quickly. He took a big swig of water before letting out a noisy sigh.

"Thank you for the meal," Farren chirped, scrambling to his feet to join them when Draco started to rise.

Mrs. Hughes ushered them to the door just as the wind started to pick up outside. It wasn't a particularly long walk to the Guest House, but Harry took his time, his eyes transfixed as dark clouds lit up with the wild criss-cross of lightning. Each flash was quickly followed by a deep rumbling of thunder that reverberated in his chest. The wind whipped his hair about wildly, tugging at his clothes, and making him stagger slightly as it buffeted him. Something about the promise of violence in the storm made him feel alive.

Harry slowly climbed the dilapidated steps of the aging porch and stepped through the doorway just as the bottom dropped out of the clouds. He darted to the living room, staring out through an inky black window. The downpour was so thick you could hardly even see through it. The sound of rain pelting the windows increased to a deafening roar, almost as if it were white noise on a dead radio channel and someone had cranked up the volume to max. A flash of lightning lit up the yard like daylight, the after-images of it disappearing just as thunder shook the whole house.

The lights flickered briefly and then the whole house was plunged into the kind of darkness so pure that you can only find it this far away from civilization. All at once, everything felt very surreal, an almost dream-like quality tainting his perception of events. A flash of lightning would briefly illuminate the void, casting ominous shadows off the couches and tables. Shortly thereafter a boom of thunder rattling through the void would follow in its wake. It was like a slow-motion strobe light chasing the heavy beating of a drum. His head was starting to ache at the dizzying effect it was having on him. He reached up to take his glasses off and cover his eyes with his other hand, blocking out the sporadic flashes. It felt like he was falling through reality, his body drifting and ungrounded, floating in empty space.

"Harry, are you okay?" Draco questioned, his voice tight and tinged with alarm.

Harry moved his hand away from his face, blinking into the darkness, struggling to get his bearings. Another lightning strike illuminated the room and Draco's concerned silver eyes very close to his face, but then it all disappeared again. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, closing his eyes tightly against the agony sparking off in his head. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear a child screaming. He clapped his hands over his ears, trying to stop the sound. It felt like it was ripping his mind to pieces.

"Harry. Harry, look at me," Draco was shouting desperately, his hands on Harry's shoulders as he shook him. The lights in the house flickered back to life. Harry's green eyes shot open to meet Draco's, his chest heaving as they continued to stare at one another.

They were engulfed in a blinding flash of light, the loud crack of thunder that followed shaking them to their very bones. With an air of finality, the room was plunged into darkness without even the hopeful flicker of light teasing at them. Harry felt his head start to swim, stumbling forward, his vision narrowing to just a tiny pinprick, his body tilting as if in slow motion until he landed against something warm and familiar. He was trying to figure out who was screaming, but his mind kept slipping away from him.

"Harry… Harry... Ha-"

He was plunged into darkness, Draco's voice disappearing behind him.


	3. Familial Bonds

Harry blinked a few times, eyes slowly adjusting to the soft morning sunlight streaming through the lacy curtains of their bedroom window. His thoughts were fuzzy and broken like he was still dreaming. The only thing he was certain of was the soft body pressed against his side, limbs entwined with his.

Frowning, he closed his eyes, struggling to recall how he'd gotten in bed in the first place. All he could remember was the thunderstorm rolling in and then… a child screaming? His stomach let out an angry rumble, forcing him to consider the possibility that he might have been out for days this time.

Draco shifted next to him, lifting his head with a tired smile, dark circles marring his pale face. "Morning," he greeted softly.

Harry grew tense, his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. "How long was I out this time?"

Draco yawned and rubbed at his eyes before casually replying, "Just a day and a half."

Suspicions confirmed, his stomach flip-flopped unpleasantly. "I thought these episodes were supposed to be getting shorter and less frequent."

"Severus seems to think it was a fluke. It's actually been a while since your last one," the blond reminded, snuggling reassuringly against his shoulder.

Harry ran his hand along Draco's arm with a sigh. "I know," he grumbled. "I'm just tired of feeling like I can't trust myself."

Draco pulled him closer, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "You're being too hard on yourself," he whispered, his soft breath ruffling Harry's messy bangs. "You were tortured by Aunt Bella for months. Not even Severus can figure out how you kept your sanity. You just have to give yourself time."

Harry felts his worries slowly melting away. "You're right," he whispered back, allowing Draco's warmth to ground him to what was real. No dream could feel like this. He just had to have faith. Things would work out… somehow.

"Want to help Mrs. Hughes with breakfast?" Draco suggested with a tentative smile.

It was a shock to hear - Draco offering to help make breakfast. It was so unlike Draco. Harry felt a flood of happiness wash over him to realize that Draco was making an effort just to please him. It was his way of showing that he cared about the things that Harry cared about, that he was willing to do something unpleasant for Harry's sake. He wanted to smother the boy in kisses, but the painful knot of hunger in his stomach shifted with another noisy rumble, reminding him that it had other plans, plans that didn't involve kissing every square inch of lily-white skin he could find.

"Breakfast… yeah," Harry agreed with a nervous chuckle.

After they finished making themselves presentable, they rushed downstairs and out through the front door. The morning air was already hot and humid, pressing against them from all sides as they trudged across the burnt yellow yard that stretched between the guest house and the main house. They cut a steady path heading straight for the back door and the welcome return to air conditioning.

As soon as they stepped inside, they were greeted with the pleasant aroma of breakfast cooking. Mrs. Hughes was humming in the kitchen, tongs in hand, standing ready to flip the bacon frying in a cast-iron skillet. Her face lit up when she caught sight of the two of them. The tongs were quickly set aside so that she could rush over to him, pulling him into a smothering hug.

"I'm so glad you're feeling better," she exclaimed, tightening her grip on him as if she were trying to squeeze all her feelings into him. Despite being puzzled by her affection, a warmth settled in his chest, slowly spreading until it filled him.

Draco eyed the two of them awkwardly before clearing his throat, his face flushing as he asked, "What can we do to help with breakfast?"

She pulled away from Harry, her eyes widening as she turned to examine the blonde without even trying to disguise her surprise. "You can…" she paused, sniffing at the air, her eyes darting to the bacon that had begun smoking.

She hastily pulled the skillet off the burner and moved it to an unlit one. "I've got everything under control," she assured them with an embarrassed smile. "How about you boys go and watch some TV in the living room? I'll let you know when breakfast is done."

Harry's face twitched, a smile pulling at his lips as he watched the profound look of relief wash over Draco at her words.

"Sounds good," the blonde answered in a rush, grasping Harry's hand and pulling him away before Harry could insist on helping.

With the curtains closed, the living room was somewhat dim. Large floral print furniture made it feel slightly crowded but in a cozy sort of way. Thomas was lounging on the main couch, bathed in the flickering light of the TV screen in front of him.

Draco dragged Harry across the room, pulling him down to half-sit on Draco's lap in the plush loveseat against the far wall.

"Would ya look at that?" the TV blared. Harry glanced over at it as an older man in rubber trousers held up a glistening green fish that was almost as long as he was tall. He had an idiotic grin on his face as he showed the camera-man his prize. "This biggin' put up quite the fight."

Thomas leaned forward on the couch, his eyes sparkling enviously as he watched them weigh and measure the monstrosity.

Neither boy quite understood the appeal of shows like this one and quickly found their attention wandering. It was nice though, just sitting here like this without any immediate obligations or concerns. It felt normal. Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder and let out a contented sigh.

"You really like it here?" Draco questioned softly, shifting slightly to get a better view of Harry's face.

Harry smiled softly, his gaze passing over the living room, taking in the walls filled with family photos, a handful of toys lying haphazardly on the floor, the coffee table decorated with fake flowers and a blue ceramic bowl filled with faded potpourri. "Yeah," he whispered.

Draco frowned, glancing around the living room as Harry had done, his nose wrinkling slightly. "Why?" he questioned in confusion.

"It reminds me of how it was like with the Weasley's before… well before Voldemort and that prophecy and everything else. It was exactly how I always imagined being in a proper family would feel like."

Draco searched his eyes as if trying to grasp some unfathomable answer that would explain everything. Harry didn't know if there was a better way to explain it. How could he explain that his fondest memories of growing up with the Dursley's were when they ignored his very existence? How he lived for the days that they left him alone in his tiny cupboard, far away from their hateful words and judgmental looks. How he spent hours imagining what life would have been like if his parents hadn't died? As messed up as Draco's life had been, his family had always loved him… even when that didn't seem to be the case. How do you explain the appeal of a family to someone who has always taken theirs for granted?

"Breakfast is ready," Mrs. Hughes called out from the doorway, pulling them both out of troubling thoughts.

"Thomas, let your brother and father know," she commanded.

Thomas groaned in response before he switched off the TV and trudged up the stairs. She shook her head with a heavy sigh as she watched his progress. When he had disappeared from view, she turned in their direction with an affectionate smile.

"Draco, will you bring the kids in and make sure they wash their hands?" she requested, gesturing out the window to indicate Farren and Sam's location. Draco bristled slightly, still unaccustomed to being asked to do things like help children wash up. A laugh threatened to escape from Harry's throat when he marveled at how domestic it all seemed.

"And Harry dear," she continued, her blue eyes focusing on him with a slightly concerned expression on her round face, "...go have yourself a seat and get started before my boys devour everything. I imagine you must be starving."

She disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone in silence. Harry gave Draco a smug smile. "Guess I'll get started on breakfast," he teased. "I'll try and leave you some bacon, but I'm not making any promises. I'm apparently starving after all."

Draco shoved him off the loveseat and leaned forward. "Whatever scar-head," he grumbled, staring down at him with the barest traces of a smirk forming on his face.

Neither moved for quite a while until the thundering footsteps coming down the stairs reminded them of their assigned tasks. They both jumped to their feet and headed off in opposite directions.

Harry took a seat at the kitchen table, where Mrs. Hughes immediately piled his plate high with food - eggs, bacon, pancakes, grits - more food than he could ever hope to eat in one sitting. He gave her a nervous smile and picked up his fork.

Thomas and David rushed in soon after, taking the seats directly opposite him. They quickly filled their plates with almost as much food as Harry had. It was amazing how the two could stay so fit with how much food they devoured at every meal. "They're growing boys," Mrs. Hughes would always explain with a shrug, despite the fact that both young men were definitely beyond their growing years.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," David teased as he crumbled a slice of bacon into his grits before adding cheese and butter.

"Yeah," Harry sheepishly replied. "It's good to be back."

Draco was next to enter, Samantha's tiny little hand gripping his. Harry couldn't help but find the situation adorable despite the disgruntled expressions on both Draco's and Farren's faces. Samantha took the seat next to David with a pout, her eyes following Draco as he sat between Farren and Harry.

Mr. Hughes strode into the room, his eyes roaming over the table until they landed on Harry. "Glad to see you're feeling better," he remarked as he took his seat at the head of the table.

"Thank you," Harry murmured, his face flushing from all the attention he was receiving from them.

After serving her husband, Mrs. Hughes stopped hovering about the table and took her seat as well. "Sorry the bacon's a bit burnt," she apologized unnecessarily. No one seemed to care about burnt bacon. Harry certainly didn't. Even had it been bits of charcoal, Harry would have still eaten it just the same.

David added bacon and eggs to his sister's pancake, arranging them so that it appeared to be a silly face before he dribbled syrup tears from its eggy eyes to the edges of the plate. She giggled, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at Farren to see if he had noticed. His cheeks flushed slightly when their eyes met and he quickly glanced away.

Harry let out a happy sigh as he scanned the room, his eyes catching on that little bit of a smile on Draco's face as he watched his little brother. Maybe Draco felt it too - that feeling of family?


	4. All Good Things Must End

Harry was whimpering in his sleep. Draco pulled him closer to his chest and gently stroked his hair, but it didn't seem to be helping. They had received news that Remus would be joining them in two days to help catch them up on their studies and to prepare Harry for his upcoming apparition licensing exam. Since then, Harry had been distant and moody. Every time Draco asked him what was wrong, Harry assured him that it was nothing. Obviously, that wasn't the truth.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, moving away without waking. Draco resisted, pulling Harry back in with a soft whisper, "It's okay. You're okay." Harry started to struggle, frantic energy fueling him as he fought to escape Draco's arms. On a hunch, Draco began to sing his mother's lullaby and Harry immediately settled down, his body relaxing in his arms, his breathing evening out. He kept singing until he was certain that Harry had moved on to more pleasant dreams.

Admittedly, Remus' pending arrival was a reminder that their summer was coming to an end, that they would have to return to the wizarding world and possible danger… and that horrible prophecy. How was he going to protect Farren when he wasn't even able to protect Harry? Was going back to Hogwarts really the best decision? The Ministry and The Order had assured everyone that security had been improved, that extra warding had been put in place, and that Aurors would be posted on the grounds for added protection. Even still, many parents had opted to pull their children from school. And who could blame them really when even "The Chosen One" hadn't been safe there?

Eventually, Draco fell into a fretful sleep of his own, fully exhausted by all his worries and concerns.

* * *

Harry shoveled muck out of one of the horse stalls, his sweat-slicked shirt clinging to him as he worked. Draco watched him from atop a large hay bale nearby, sketchpad in hand. He looked positively miserable with his sweaty blond hair plastered to his forehead and his cheeks flushed from the heat. He could have easily opted to stay inside and enjoy the comfort of air conditioning, but he didn't. It brought a smile to Harry's face to realize that Draco was braving the discomfort of the elements just to be close to him. Even the sour expression on the boy's face couldn't dampen how unbelievably happy it made him feel.

"You smell like horse shit," Draco grumbled as if Harry wasn't already acutely unaware of that fact. "Why do you keep offering to do this?"

"It's a good distraction and someone has to do it," Harry replied with a shrug, his shoulders aching in protest at the movement. "Maybe they'll decide to hire me on permanently."

He was only half-joking as he said it; the temptation of just staying there forever was almost more than he could stand to admit aloud. The rest of the world seemed so far away from this secluded little ranch, like a dream he was reluctant to wake from. If he let himself think about it, if he allowed himself to realize he wasn't joking, there was a very real possibility that he might break down and cry at how hopeless their situation was. If they decided not to go back? If he bowed out of this fight? How long before Voldemort's disease spread here? The man wouldn't be content to just stay in his little sandbox forever - that wasn't in his nature. He wanted everything.

"That would be…" Draco's face said unpleasant, but he finished with the words, "...nice," a forced smile appearing on his face.

Harry's heart flip-flopped in his chest at seeing Draco trying so hard. The shovel fell to the cement floor with a ringing clatter as Harry made his move, pressing his warm lips against Draco's. The sketchpad fell between them as Harry ran rough hands up and down the boy's thighs while continuing to explore his mouth.

Reluctantly, Draco seemed to gather his senses and push Harry away. "It's way too hot for a roll in the hay. Plus," he chided, his nose wrinkling. "It was rather unpleasant the last time we tried it."

Harry chuckled at the memory of stiff straw scratching and poking at his exposed skin, of it clinging to his sweaty body and getting tangled in his hair. Draco had fared no better. A roll in the hay, as they had both discovered, was not nearly as exciting as it sounded.

"Yeah, let's just stick to beds and showers," Harry admitted with a thoughtful pause, "...and other sensible places."

He continued to run his rough palms along Draco's thighs, reveling in the noticeable uptick in the blond's breathing and the tenting in his pants.

Draco groaned deep and low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut as Harry took the opportunity to lean forward and nibble at his pale neck.

"Stop that," Draco scolded in a breathy whisper, but he was tilting his head back ever so slightly exposing more of his neck to Harry's hungry mouth.

The two boys jumped apart in surprise when they heard Mr. Hughes' deep voice rumbling just outside the horse stalls. "Glad you could make it, Professor," he announced. "Let me help you with your things."

They both frowned, ear straining as the conversation continued.

"Thank you for having me, but it's been years since I was a Professor. Just call me Remus."

Harry glanced guiltily in Draco's direction, his heart thundering wildly in his chest. They said nothing, the uneasy silence stretching on indefinitely. Draco made the first move, jumping down off of his hay bale and bending over to pick up his sketchpad. It was enough to get them moving again. So, like mourners marching in a funeral procession, they both made their way to the Guest House, a sense of hopelessness clawing at Harry's insides.

"At least you'll learn how to apparate properly. No more relying on me to side-along apparate anymore," Draco offered with a thoughtful shrug.

"I prefer brooms," Harry muttered darkly.

Draco had passed his licensing exam while Harry was still at St. Mungo's. They hadn't actually done much apparating as Harry found the sensation deeply unsettling, but it was something he needed to learn to do on his own. It wouldn't be right to continue using Draco like a magical chauffer, even if it rarely happened.

They paused at the front door, both working up the courage to face the inevitable reality that their summer was coming to an end. Everything they'd left behind in England, all the unresolved feelings and damaged relationships, the prophecy, they were about to be plunged back into the thick of it once more.

Harry pulled on the metal handle of the screen door. It shrieked in protest, no doubt announcing their arrival to the two men inside. Draco took hold of the handle, holding it open so Harry could open the main door. Sure enough, Remus was already waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. His cheeks had filled out some and his clothing seemed less worn. The dark shadows under his eyes had all but disappeared. This didn't look like the haggard face of a man who had been preparing for war for months, but rather the face of a man who had been shown love and kindness in the midst of despair. At least there was that.

"Harry," Remus called out with a hesitant smile on his face. "It's been a while. I've missed you."

"Same," Harry mumbled, his eyes falling to his feet, his face burning with shame at having avoided the man for over a year.

Mr. Hughes cleared his throat rather loudly, reminding them all that he was still there. "I'll be heading to the Main House now so you boys can have some privacy." Without another word, he brushed past them and retreated out the front door. Draco looked as though he wanted to join him, but his face unexpectedly hardened with resolve and he took Harry's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Harry squeezed it back and turned to face the older man.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, his voice only just barely more than a whisper. "I should have talked to you sooner."

"No need to apologize," Remus replied as he watched Harry shifting nervously in the entryway. "It was understandable that you would want to avoid me. I don't hold any grudges over it. I'm just happy to have you back with us. Those two months…" he paused, his voice cracking at the memory. "...they were the hardest two months of my life."

Harry blinked away the hot tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, a hard lump forming in his throat as he struggled to maintain his composure. Remus closed the distance pulling him into a fierce hug.

He stiffened in the man's embrace, his stomach growing sick and heavy. There were simply too many emotions that he was holding at bay, too many things he was avoiding. If he let down his guard, he'd be consumed by their neverending flood. He couldn't let either of them see how bad things were, they both needed him to be strong, everyone needed him to be. So, he pulled himself together, clenched his jaw, and shoved it all back down.

"Thanks for coming," he stated in a deadpan, pulling out of Remus' embrace. "I have chores that I need to finish before dinner."

He turned and made his way back to the horse stalls, Draco trailing behind him.

"Harry! Harry, stop!" Draco demanded, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around. "What the hell was that about?"

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered forlornly, his eyes darting away as his walls crumbled under the intensity of Draco's expression. "I couldn't breathe in there."

"You can't run from this," Draco scolded, his voice breaking slightly as spoke. "If you keep trying, I might… I might…" he paused, taking a gasping breath before continuing. "I might start running too. I'm scared. I don't know if I can protect you and that… it terrifies me. Sometimes I can't even sleep at night. But being afraid… it's not going to fix anything."

"That's not it," Harry shouted, cutting off Draco's panicked ramblings. Guilt slammed into him almost immediately as Draco's silver eyes widened in surprise at his harsh tone. "It's just… I'm not strong enough… not yet," Harry trailed off, his chest constricting as icy tendrils of panic clutched at his fluttering heart. His breathing became erratic - the emotions that he'd been struggling to keep in check came bubbling to the surface. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid. He closed his eyes against the flood of guilt and hopelessness.

"Harry," Draco called, taking him by the shoulders with a firm grip. "It's okay. You don't have to explain yourself to me. You don't have to be strong right now. You don't owe that to anyone. Please, lean on me sometimes. Let me in."

Harry glanced up, his eyes locking onto Draco's, getting lost in pools of endless mercury. Everything else in the world just faded away. His breathing steadied, his heart settled into a gentle cadence, his turbulent emotions grew placid. He found the strength to put his emotions in check. "I'm fine," he whispered.

Draco held him with skeptical eyes, dubiously searching his face.

"Honest," Harry assured him. "It was just a moment of weakness. I've got things under control. There's nothing to be worried about."

Draco let out a heavy sigh and glanced towards the stables. "Ready to shovel more shit, O King of Manure," he questioned with forced cheerfulness.

Harry smiled weakly back at him. "Does that make you the Queen of Manure?"

Draco blinked a few times, his face flitting through a series of conflicting emotions before settling on scorn. "Hardly," he scoffed. "More like the Mistress of Manure. I'm keeping my options open for now."

There was still the barest whisper of fragility in the air, but Harry pushed through it, forcing himself to smile. Their demons would have to wait for another day.


	5. Christmas in July

A crunching noise drew Harry's eyes as Draco absentmindedly bit into the thick skin of a bright green apple. The crate next to him lay empty and a mountain of red and green apple peels peeked up over the top of the garbage can sitting in front of him. The blond had made quick work of them this time, which was in sharp contrast to the first time he'd been asked to peel something. It had been potatoes and he had almost lost a finger.

"If you're done, help me finish cutting these up," Harry suggested, gesturing to the pile of freshly peeled apples waiting on the counter.

"Hmmm," Draco hummed thoughtfully before focusing in on him and blinking as if surprised. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"Yeah, I did. Where'd you go?" Harry questioned, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Draco had been zoning out more and more frequently since Remus had arrived. Something was bothering him but he refused to open up and talk to Harry about it. He kept saying it was nothing important enough to worry over, but that just made Harry worry more.

"Just lost in thought. You know, wondering how my parents are doing and… other things," Draco replied vaguely, waving off Harry's concern with a slightly irritated frown on his face. "Want some help cutting those up?" he asked with a nod in the direction of the apple pile.

Harry was slightly taken aback, "Wow. You really weren't listening at all, were you? Just…" Harry sighed, dropping the issue. "Yeah, I could use the help."

Draco shrugged, tossing the apple core into the trash before grabbing a clean knife and cutting board and picking crossing the kitchen. He picked up an apple off the top of the pile and studied it intently before getting to work.

"They don't have to be perfect," Harry assured him with an amused grin as he watched Draco's slow, deliberate movements. "We're just making applesauce. They'll end up being mush anyway."

Draco nodded once, his frown still in place, but his actions a little less cautious. Soon they had several bowls filled with apple slices.

Harry picked up one of the bowls, a thoughtful expression on his face as he examined its contents. Thanks to the Dursley's aversion to anything abnormal, he'd only ever made plain applesauce. He really wanted to try something new, something exciting, something that didn't remind him of them.

A possible flavor combination started floating around in his head, so palpable he could almost taste it, the barest whisper of it ghosting through his brain and firing off along the neurons that connected with his mouth. He pulled out cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, cloves, brown sugar, lemon juice, and some cranberry juice and added them to the bowl of apples, turning them over a few times with a spoon until they were thoroughly coated with the mixture.

Draco took a seat at the kitchen table to watch as Harry pulled out a saucepan and poured the contents of the bowl into it. Soon the apple slices were simmering in cranberry juice and spices, filling the house with a sweet aroma. It vaguely reminded him of wassail, which had Harry unexpectedly thinking of Christmas.

"Smells good," Draco remarked, pulling a deep breath in through his nose. "You'll make someone a good wife someday." A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he struggled to keep a straight face. Ever since Draco had discovered how skilled Harry was at domestic tasks this had become a running joke between them.

Harry chuckled at Draco's teasing, a slight blush stealing across his face. "If either of us were the wife here, I think it would be you. You've got the pretty-boy looks for it." Harry's eyes slowly passed over Draco's slender frame. "I just don't think I'd look very cute in an apron. Your figure is better suited for it."

"I don't know," Draco replied, thoughtfully tapping his finger against his lips. "I'd have to see you in one before I made a decision."

Harry gave him a playful smile and sat down next to him. "I don't think we're quite to the point in our relationship where we need to dress up to make things interesting," Harry countered, a fake pout forming as he turned to Draco. "Unless you're already bored with me?"

Draco snorted, shaking his head. "Life with you is way too interesting to ever be considered boring."

Harry tensed, the sting of Draco's words unexpectedly catching him off-guard. It was true that his life was rarely ever boring… no matter how many times he wished it otherwise. "Yeah," Harry shakily agreed.

They both lapsed into an uneasy silence, Draco squirming in his seat beside him.

"I'm sor - " Draco started to say, but Harry cut him off with a sad shake of his head.

"It's fine. You didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry I made things weird again," Harry apologized, his head hung low as he addressed his feet. "I just think it might be nice to have a boring life from time to time."

"I know," Draco whispered softly, his eyes murky and troubled.

Without saying another word, Harry stood back up and crossed over to the stove to check on his creation. As soon as he pulled the lid off the pan, the sweet smell that had been teasing them intensified.

"Hey, do you think we can stay here for Christmas?" Harry wondered aloud, stirring the mixture and putting the lid back on.

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, soft breath tickled the back of his neck. He closed his eyes, melting into the warmth against his back. He had been worried that Draco might be second-guessing a relationship with him, might be regretting all the complications that it brought, the risks involved. When all was said and done, what else would Draco be constantly fretting over?

"That would be nice," the blond whispered in his ear, sending a chill down Harry's spine.

Draco held him in his arm for a while, both boys quietly basking in the heat of the stove. After the apples had begun to brown, Harry lifted the lid and idly tested their firmness. They gave way easily so he slowly began mashing them up with the back of his fork. When he was done, he turned down the heat, watching as big fat bubbles broke the surface.

The sweet smell of Christmas, Draco's warm body against him, and all his problems far away on another continent - why was he wasting this moment of respite on troublesome thoughts? He should be enjoying things while they lasted.

"You want to try some before Mrs. Hughes cans it?" Harry asked, gesturing to the saucepan.

Draco nodded against him, briefly nuzzling the back of his neck before pulling away and retrieving two spoons from the silverware drawer. They each scooped out a spoonful from the pan, blowing on it gently to cool it down. His mouth was watering in anticipation. The pulpy sweetness of it slid across his tongue with ease. He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan.

Draco seized him unexpectedly by the hips and pulled him close, his warm mouth pressed against his lips, devouring him. Harry dropped his spoon to the floor, slowly easing into the kiss, their tongues dancing passionately.

"That might be the best thing I've ever tasted," Draco panted, his face flushed and silver eyes burning with need. Harry wasn't sure if he meant the applesauce or their kiss, but he couldn't find it in him to care. He was losing himself in Draco's eyes once more. How was it that Draco always had this effect on him? Warmth pooled in his belly, his hands moved of their own accord to run longingly across his back.

"Ugh. Get a room," David scolded from the doorway of the kitchen. "You're going to gay up the applesauce."

Harry and Draco jumped at David's sudden appearance, a blush on both of their faces.

"Sorry," Harry sputtered, producing an unexpected laugh from David.

"I was only teasing," David replied. "Well, half-teasing. It's generally not a good idea to get it on near a hot stove."

The heat in his cheeks intensified as the silence dragged on. "Um… so …. you can let your mom know the apples are cut up and the first batch is done and ready to be canned," Harry stammered, his heart thundering in his chest as his eyes skittered away from David's bemused gaze.

"Relax," David commanded, letting out a soft chuckle as they continued to squirm. "I'm not bothered, honest. Two dudes kissing... it's whatever."

Harry felt the tightness in his shoulders ease a bit. Getting caught in the act always made him feel nervous. They had spent so much time sneaking around when they first got there, unsure of how their hosts would react, that it had almost become a force of habit. Sometimes he needed to be reminded that it was okay. "Thanks for that," Harry replied. "I just… well… most people aren't as accepting, so thanks."

"No problem," David answered with an indifferent shrug. "Finish cleaning up and I'll let mom know you're done with the apples so she can finish up the rest of the batches. She said something about apple strudel as well."

When David was gone, Draco wrapped his arms around him once again, his chin resting gently on Harry's shoulder. "You're so cute when you get flustered. You'd think that was the first time we'd been caught in the act."

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back against Draco's firm chest. "And who's the one always lecturing me about manners?"

"You think I care about what some silly muggles think?" Draco questioned in a light tone.

"Then why were you blushing?" Harry shot back, turning his head slightly so that he could see Draco's face out of the corner of his eye.

Draco was smirking as he spoke. "Because watching you squirm had me feeling embarrassed on your behalf."

The tickle of Draco's breath on the back of his neck caused his heart rate to pick up as blood pooled in his groin once more. He had to remind himself that the stove was still on and still hot before he let his needs run wild.

"I guess we'll see who's squirming later tonight," Harry threatened, pulling away from Draco in order to turn off the stove and tidy up the mess they had made in the kitchen.

Draco chuckled and made his way to the kitchen door. "I can't wait," he purred before heading outside, leaving Harry to clean up the kitchen alone.


	6. Dig Deep

"Concentrate," Lupin warned as he watched Harry scrunch up his face at the edge of the horse pasture.

Draco smirked at the pair, suddenly reminded of Severus' very vocal frustration with him just a few months ago when he'd been learning to apparate. At one point he'd been certain his Godfather was going to transform him into a newt and throw him into one of the many potions brewing in his small flat.

A loud crack echoed across the tall grass. Harry appeared a few feet away, his face slightly green as he swayed unsteadily on his feet in the mid-day sun.

Draco sighed, the tension he had not been consciously aware of draining from his shoulders in a rush. If things got messy in the future, Draco wouldn't have to worry about Harry's ability to escape. He hoped.

"Again," Lupin commanded, drawing a startled look from both of them.

Harry remained silent as he scrutinized Lupin's face. When their former professor neither relented nor offered any explanation, Harry seemed to surrender, his shoulder sagging in resignation. He took a deep breath and twisted up his face once more before disappearing with a resounding crack.

"Again."

Another crack and Harry stumbled forward as he reappeared, sweat glistening on his now pale face. Lupin's mouth opened, the word "Again" starting to form.

"That's enough," Draco cried, rushing across the field to stand between the two. "He's figured it out already."

Lupin studied the two of them with a frown. "There's no point in him learning to apparate if he isn't able to react quickly and make multiple jumps in a short span of time."

"I get that," Draco begrudgingly agreed. He glanced back at Harry in concern before turning to square off with the man once more. "But you're pushing him too hard. He's only just mastered it."

"I don't know how Snape conducted your lessons—" He took a menacing step forward. "And frankly, I don't care. But Harry is my responsibility and I will decide what's best for him."

"What's best for him?" Draco challenged, angrily tossing his head to indicate the green-faced Harry behind him. "And this is what you think is best for him?"

"Yes," Lupin growled. "Getting his license won't be enough. Do you have any idea how many licensed wizards Voldemort has put in the ground? I'd rather die than see Harry added to that list."

Draco stared the older man down, frustrated that Lupin was treating him as if he were still a child who didn't understand the workings of the world. "How dare—"

"He's right," Harry interrupted, stepping between them to place a comforting hand on Draco's arm. "I need to keep practicing."

Draco's eyes went wide as his view of Lupin was suddenly cut off. A resolute expression was slowly taking hold of Harry, transforming his soft green eyes to cold, hard emerald.

"Fine," he spat, pulling his arm out of Harry's grasp. "I'll practice too."

Lupin stepped forward to examine him, pausing for a long while on his face before finally speaking. "As long as you don't slow us down."

After a curt nod, Draco stepped a few feet away, mentally preparing himself to apparate to a different part of the field.

"Again!" he commanded as if there had never been an interruption.

A loud crack and Harry was gone, a soft wave across the swaying yellow grass the only indication that he'd been there.

Draco closed his eyes, concentrating on the image of his destination - a small section of grass a few feet from the tall oak tree that stood next to the stock pond. He felt the force of his spell building up inside of him. A deep pull started in his chest, dragging him through an oppressive darkness that squeezed at him from all sides before he popped back into existence on the far end of the field. His stomach lurched a bit, but he kept his breakfast down.

"Again!"

Draco groaned at the residual ache still lingering in his limbs after only a single jump. With a quick shake of his head, he forced himself to envision the area he'd just vacated. He squished through the darkness, popping up in the tall grass just as Lupin shouted, "Again!"

He let out a weary sigh and glanced across the impossibly wide field just as Harry appeared on the other side. He couldn't even begin to fathom where Harry had come up with the energy. Two jumps in and Draco's limbs felt like jelly.

"Draco," Lupin warned with only a passing glance in his direction. "You're falling behind - less staring and more moving. Again."

Draco's stomach was still churning. He wasn't ready, but he squared his shoulders and made another jump. Once there, he was greeted with the gasping, choking noise of Harry losing the contents of his stomach a few feet away. He felt the hot sting of bile at the back of his throat and swallowed hard.

"All right," Lupin called out as he strode across the field in their direction. "I think that's enough of that for today. Let's take a fifteen-minute break and we'll start practicing defensive spells next."

Draco turned an incredulous look on the older man, feeling bone-tired with just what they'd done so far. To add insult to injury, this man was treating the morning's activities as if they were just a warm-up!

Harry wiped a hand across his mouth and stood up with a nod. Something hard and foreign had taken over Harry. An ominous shudder passed through Draco's body as he observed the pair. Somehow he just knew the day was going to get ugly.

Draco stumbled over to the shade of the large oak tree, enjoying the feel of a slight breeze coming up off the stock pond as he took a seat. Harry dropped to the ground next to him with a heavy groan, leaning back against the tree trunk and shielding his eyes from view with the back of his wrist.

Sweat stung at Draco's eyes and he dragged a hand across his face to clear his vision.

"Don't forget to stay hydrated," Lupin reminded, tossing a bottle at his unsuspecting face. He dodged it just in time and it struck the tree trunk between them with a harsh crackle of plastic. It then rolled across the ground before coming to a stop against his thigh.

Lupin shrugged and walked away, completely disregarding the frown on Draco's face.

"Please be patient with Remus," Harry whispered solemnly. "We need the practice."

His eyes traced over the jagged scars covering Harry's arms, a knot forming in his stomach as he considered the fact that they'd be returning to Hogwarts in a few weeks. "I know," he admitted with a sigh.

Begrudgingly, he picked up the water bottle and took a few greedy gulps to wash away to sour taste in his mouth before offering it to Harry. Still looking a little ill, he eyed the bottle for a long moment and then shook his head.

Before Draco had the chance to insist that Harry drink something, Lupin's harsh voice interrupted, "Time's up, you two. Let's start practicing your shielding charms." He gestured with his fingers to indicate the line they were expected to form.

Groaning, they both dragged themselves to their feet and trudged across the field. "Fifteen minutes, my ass," Draco grumbled aloud.

He glanced at Harry's face, a frown forming as he noticed the hard look that had returned to his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine - just tired is all."

Lupin's calculating gaze passed over them, reminding Draco at once of the task at hand. "I'm going to fire off a series of stinging spells at random. Deflect them any way you can and be careful not to hit the other when you do."

Without warning and with very little movement to give himself away, Lupin flung his first spell directly at Draco's chest. It sizzled unexpectedly across his skin, forcing him to inhale sharply.

"Hey, I wasn't re…" he started to exclaim, his mouth snapping shut when he caught sight of the reproachful flash sparking off in the professor's eyes.

Lupin didn't even need to say it aloud, "The enemy won't wait until you're ready."

Draco hung his head, letting the message burn through him. He shuddered at the memory of being completely useless when Harry needed him the most.

Beside him, Harry was tracking Lupin's hands with the entirety of his focus. Every time they moved, his eyes jumped to follow. At the sight of a slight flourish, Harry threw up a shield charm just in time to block the man's spell. The red lightning crackled over his shield and fizzled out.

Another spell caught the very edge of Draco's shoulder and he hissed as his eyes snapped back to their professor.

"Situational awareness," the man commanded before he took another shot at Draco. His hastily constructed shield barely held against the force of it, allowing a small tendril to lash out at his face.

"Better," Lupin acknowledged. He shifted slightly, his feet spreading out to shoulder-width as he lifted his wand in an ominous fashion. What followed was an unending cascade of spells.

Draco summoned shield after shield, taking a few hits here and there when he wasn't quite fast enough. Sweat soaked through his pale green t-shirt and he labored for breath under the man's barrage.

Harry grunted beside him, shaking with the effort of maintaining his defenses against a particularly potent bit of spellwork thrown his way. It shattered, the brunt of the spell came crashing down upon his unprotected chest. Draco took an equally powerful curse to his side, a gasp of pain erupting from his mouth as it burned through him.

Lupin paused, studying them with disdain. The silence filled with each panting breath the boys took. "Take a break, drink some water. We'll resume training in an hour."

The tension of that moment instantly drained from Draco's body stealing with it his ability to remain standing as he sunk to the ground. He flopped to his back in the brittle grass, staring up at the empty blue sky above. His greedy lungs pulled in breath after breath of dry scorching air.

Nearby, Harry stared down at his wand in confusion, his free hand lifted to his chest to tentatively rub away the stinging reminder of his failed shield.

"You can't stop them all," Draco assured him, propping himself up to a sitting position so he could better see him. His muscles protested the movement, aching through every inch of his arms.

Harry didn't say a word. His eyes fluttered very briefly before he came crashing to the ground in a dead faint a few feet away.


	7. A Conflict of Interests

"What do you want?" Draco spat, his body tensed, fists shaking at his sides as he glared at the man standing in the doorway.

Lupin took a hesitant step forward, his gaze landing on the bed where Harry slept a few feet away. "I didn't think—"

"Of course, you didn't. It wasn't as if I tried to warn you or anything."

Lupin winced at the accusation. "I should have been more careful, but I had to…" He shook his head, his eyes clouding as he glanced back at Harry. "Teaching him… How else am I supposed to protect him? He's the only—"

"No," Draco cut him off, "He's not yours to keep. He's not James or Sir-"

"You think I'm not aware of that?!" Lupin's frustrated breathing kicked up a whirlwind of tiny orange sparks as dustmotes caught fire in the amber afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window.

Harry's groan was like a splash of cold water. They both turned, the tension in the air draining away as his green eyes fluttered open. He lifted his hands to grip the sides of his head as he sat up. "Wha... How long?" he questioned, wincing.

Draco was at his side in an instant, heart fluttering like a bird in his chest as his eyes traced the features of his face. "A few hours this time," he reassured. "Nothing too serious."

Harry slumped forward, hands falling to the threadbare pink quilt covering his legs as if he'd been deflated.

"Are you hungry?"

Harry gave a slight shake of his head without looking up.

Draco's heart ached. It was like this every time. Every. Damn. Time. No doubt Harry was beating himself up over things that were beyond his control. Worst of all, there wasn't anything that Draco could do to convince him otherwise.

Suddenly, the aging floorboards nearby let out a cry as Lupin stepped closer. Draco's whole body went stiff. He turned to glare at the man. "Don't you think you've done enough already?"

Lupin hesitated, regretful eyes casting about before meeting Harry's. "I'm sorry," he implored, ignoring Draco entirely. "I shouldn't have pushed you so hard."

Harry shrugged off the apology, a weary expression on his face as his eyes lifted to meet Lupin's. "It's not your fault. I should be the one apologizing."

Draco grimaced, stomach churning. There was no reason for Harry to be apologizing. None at all. "Don't," he pleaded. "Don't do that."

Two sets of quizzical eyes turned on him, judging him. He pulled in on himself, hiding from the explanation their gaze demanded.

"Remus only wanted to help," Harry entreated, placing a warm hand on his thigh.

Draco recoiled from his touch. "That's not... It's—" He let out a frustrated sigh at the confused expression washing over Harry's face. "Nevermind."

The silence was a thick, suffocating blanket, pressing in on all sides as their questioning eyes continued to burn holes in him. He was outnumbered - alone against the world - misunderstood. It wasn't about Harry apologizing or Lupin ignoring him. Those were convenient excuses, a shield of anger he could wrap his heart in so he didn't have to think about the things that really hurt him.

Harry sighed, turning to Lupin with an apologetic expression. "Can you give us a moment?" he inquired.

Lupin's mouth hung open like he wanted to say something, but he snapped it shut, his lips pressed tightly together and gave a curt nod. "Fine," he grumbled before exiting the room.

Shadows crept across the floor as the sun continued to set. Draco fixated on the empty doorway, pointedly avoiding Harry's gaze. The tension in the room continued to grow until finally, Harry exploded, "Why do you keep acting like this? What aren't you telling me?"

Draco jumped, his heart thundering in his chest. "It's nothing," he exclaimed, eyes still averted.

Harry threw off the covers and crawled closer, positioning his face in front of Draco's so he couldn't avoid him anymore, "That's what you keep saying, but—"

"I told you, it's noth—"

"No," Harry snapped. "I'm tired of hearing that it's nothing. I deserve the truth from you."

"I..." Draco paused, squirming under Harry's worried gaze. He swallowed hard, trying to look away, but Harry kept moving in front of him, forcing Draco to confront him. The words that he couldn't bring himself to say were a painful lump in his throat.

A muscle in Harry's jaw twitched. "Is it something I did?"

This triggered an explosion of righteous fury. He turned, eyes burning. "Not everything is your fault!"

"Then explain it to me."

"I can't," Draco exclaimed, jumping to his feet to make a break for it. Before he made it to the door, Harry's hand on his shoulder stopped him, he spun around to face the dying rays of sunlight and Harry's angry glare.

"What the hell am I supposed to think?" Harry demanded. "Something's bothering you and you keep shutting me out. It's not fair."

"Fine," Draco spat the words, jerking his shoulder free from Harry's weak grasp. "You want the truth? The truth is I just don't see a happy ending for us."

Harry looked as if he'd taken a punch to the gut. His voice was thready and uncertain as he whispered. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Harry," Draco decried. "Even you aren't that dense." Each word felt like it was being ripped from his worst nightmare, it physically burned him. He shook with the agony of it. "If Dumbledore couldn't keep you safe, no one can. This training…" He gestured towards the empty doorway where Lupin had been standing moments before. "...it's a waste. You'll just..."

Waves of panic washed away what little semblance of composure remained. "You don't know what it was like. I was trapped in that room for weeks listening to you scream. Just thinking about it - I can't…" He let out a shaky breath. "How long before you're taken from me again?"

Harry stepped back, dropping to the bed as if the wind had been knocked out of him. "You think you're the only one who's worried?" he whispered. "I thought I lost you." He glanced out the window, a haunted look in his eyes. "I thought you were dead and it was all my fault."

Tears stung at Draco's eyes. He swallowed down the lump forming in his throat and stepped closer as Harry continued.

"I just... I hate myself for…" Mournful green eyes gazed up at him. Harry looked so small, so frightened. "I keep thinking you'd be better off without me." He shook his head and glanced away again, tears glistening on his cheeks. "But I can't stand the thought of living without you."

Draco wiped away Harry's tears, shaking his head as Harry whispered, "I promised you forever...and I don't know if I can keep that promise."

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, leaving a hazy red glow behind to herald the coming of the night.

Draco's heart seized up, he dropped to his knees in front of Harry and grabbed hold of him breathing in the sharp scent of freshly mowed grass and summer air. "Don't," he pleaded, burying his face in Harry's chest. He took a calming breath and let it out slowly. "I get it. Our forever might not be..." His unfinished sentence lay heavy in the air.

Hot tears landed on his shoulder and he was glad for the darkness that had slowly engulfed the room. Those tears - he didn't have it in him to face them.

"I'm sorry for everything."


	8. The Parting of Ways

Three weeks of training with Remus had passed in a blur of pain, sweat, and tears.

Harry walked the room, gathering up his belongings. Shirts, pants, books—all of it dumped haphazardly into his trunk. Each drawer was pulled out and emptied, the last few items tossed on top of the pile. One final scan of the room and he let out a heavy sigh, "Done."

Draco, a tidy pile of folded clothes resting in his hands, shook his head before carefully placing the clothes into the corner of his trunk. He whispered a few words over the trunk, activating the spell that would hold all his belongings in place before it closed with a resounding click.

Harry's trunk wasn't nearly as fancy—it was just a trunk, no magic involved. With a flick of his wrist, he levitated it and started for the door, a lump forming in his throat. Saying goodbye to this place was hard. It had become home, but he should have realized by now that home wasn't something he got to keep.

A small group of people stood in the field in front of the house, some of them exchanging a few words with Remus while they waited. Of the Hughes', Thomas was the only one missing. Farren gave Samantha a big hug, blinking away tears as he did so.

As soon as he noticed them, David rushed forward, scooping them both up in his arms and lifting them into a giant bear. "You guys take care of each other." He set them down with a very serious expression on his face. "And no fighting," he warned. "Life is too short to get hung up on stupid shit."

He circled around behind them, shoving them both forward to face his parents. The perpetually quiet Mr. Hughes gave them a curt nod, his way of saying goodbye. Mrs. Hughes was in tears. They spilled down her face, landing hot on Harry's shoulder as she pulled him into her arms. "We're going to miss y'all," she sobbed.

Harry's chest tightened as he nodded against her, swallowing hard to steady his voice. "Us too."

She let him go, wiping her eyes as she moved on to Draco. Harry couldn't stop the smile that stole across his face as he witnessed Draco stiffen in Mrs. Hughes' embrace. She pushed him out to arm's length, her eyes misting as she looked him over. "I wish I had more time to put some meat on these bones," she lamented, shaking him ever so slightly. "I hate to send you off looking half-starved. Maybe just one more..."

Draco pulled away, his pleading eyes darting to Harry in search of rescue.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I'll make sure Draco gets plenty of food at Hogwarts. When we come back next year, he'll be practically obese."

A muscle in Draco's jaw twitched, his eyes narrowing at Harry's rueful grin.

Mrs. Hughes treated them to a warm smile, sky-blue eyes crinkling as she gazed at them. "Hopefully we won't have to wait that long. I've asked Albus to let y'all stay here for Christmas."

Harry's heart fluttered in his chest. He'd wanted to ask, but been too afraid of the answer. Better to leave it a mystery than to have his hopes shattered.

Before he had a chance to respond, Remus, who had been standing closeby, strolled forward. "That sounds lovely, Mrs. Hughes. I will let Dumbledore know I approve of this plan. This place…" His arm swooped out to indicate the ranch. "...it's been good for the boys."

"We can come back for Christmas?" Farren exclaimed, eyes twinkling as they darted briefly in Samantha's direction. "Do muggles give Christmas presents?"

A warmth spread through Harry's chest as he glanced at Draco, his lily-white skin and platinum blond hair looking striking against the backdrop of the grassy yellow field behind him. Christmas together, a gift to pick out. He could guess at what Farren must be thinking when he looked at Samantha."Yes, muggles give Christmas presents," he replied.

"Don't get ahead of yourselves just yet," Remus warned. "Dumbledore has to approve it first. Then there's the matter of arranging a portkey across the ocean and all the requisite paperwork."

Harry snapped back to reality, frowning at Remus just as Thomas came rushing through the field, hair tousled and clothes haphazardly chosen. "Wait," he panted. "Can't have y'all leaving without saying goodbye."

David rolled his eyes, shouting, "Took you long enough."

"I overslept," Thomas griped as he stumbled to a stop in front of the group, glaring pointedly at his younger brother. "And _somebody_ didn't have the common decency to wake me up."

"How is that my fault? Aren't you an adult? Why is it my job to make sure you're awake in the morning?" David retorted, squaring off against his brother.

They looked as if they were about to get into it before Mrs. Hughes stepped in to intervene. "That's enough you two. You can have yourself a brawl in the yard after our guests have left. Now finish your goodbyes before they miss their window."

Looking sufficiently scolded, they both hung their heads. "Sorry, Ma," David murmured.

Thomas stepped forward, pulling Harry into a rough embrace. "Don't think for a second you can slack off when you come down for Christmas. Plenty of stuff to do even in the winter," he promised.

He let Harry go and moved to shake hands with Draco, leaning forward to whisper something in his ear. The blood drained from Draco's face. They stoically studied one another before he finally moved on.

Farren smiled as Thomas approached with an evil smirk. "Bring some more of those magic jelly beans when you come to visit. I've got some friends to prank," he requested, tousling the boy's hair. Farren nodded, a serious expression on his small face.

A solemn silence settled over the group, thick and suffocating. Each person trying to put on a brave face. Harry's eyes traced the gentle slope of the horse pasture, etching the image of the stock pond and guest house into his mind. A steady ache built up in his chest, catching in his throat as he tried to speak. "Thanks for taking us in. Honestly, I wish we could stay here forever, but…" He stopped, swallowing hard. "Thanks for everything."

Remus glanced down at his watch, breaking the spell with a quiet announcement, "It's time."

Farren darted forward, placing a quick peck on Samantha's cheek before returning to take hold of Draco's hand. Harry took Draco's other hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Until next time," Draco called out.

Remus took hold of Harry's free hand. They waited, staring at one another. He didn't want to leave. He wasn't ready to go back. Unease settled in his chest, drying his mouth. He wanted to stay.

Just as he was at his breaking point, they were yanked away, tossing and turning, squeezing and expanding before being violently expelled over the grounds of Hogwarts Castle. They crashed to the earth in a disorganized heap, bodies and luggage piling up around him.

With a groan, he pushed his trunk off his chest, stomach threatening rebellion as he stood and gazed up the rocky slope. The spires of Hogwarts peeked out over the ridge, windows reflecting the afternoon sunlight.

He glanced down to find Draco, face as white as a sheet as he stared, wide-eyed and unbreathing, at the slope. Harry rushed to Draco's side, eyes scanning him for injuries. "Draco, what's…" he trailed off, suddenly aware of where precisely it was that they had landed. "Oh, Draco," he whispered, pulling him into his arms and squeezing him tightly. "It's okay. I'm here. We're both safe."

Draco pulled in a gasping breath, clinging to Harry, trembling.

Harry's eyes flashed angrily in Remus' direction. "Why here?"

Remus blinked at him in surprise, sputtering, "It's a wide-open field—one of the safest places on the grounds for—"

"For apparating in and snatching people," Harry spat.

The color drained from Remus' face at the full impact of Harry's words. "Dumbledore—"

Harry shook his head in warning, pulling Draco up with him as he stood. "I'm taking Draco to our room."

He turned, facing down the castle in defiance. "Accio firebolt!" he commanded, thrusting out his hand in anticipation. There was a crash of thunder in the distance, followed by the sound of bricks clanking as they tumbled to the ground. Professor McGonagall still had his firebolt under lock and key. He didn't expect that she'd be very pleased to find the state of her office when she returned, but he didn't much care for her feelings at the moment.

The firebolt struck the palm of his hand—hard—aching into his wrist and up through his forearm. It looked worse for wear, battered and chipped, the tail bedraggled. Even still, it looked sturdy enough to fly. He began to mount, pulling Draco with him.

"I'm okay now," Draco protested weakly, his trembling subsiding as he took slow steady breaths.

"But…"

Draco forced a reassuring smile on his face, legs unsteady as he pushed Harry away. "I promise. It was just a surprise. I'm okay now."

Harry was about to protest when up at the top of the slope, a pink-haired figure appeared, gesturing back at the castle. "Was that your doing?" Tonks called out, smirking as she took long strides down the slope to join them. "Decided on a little remodeling before the start of term?"

Harry glanced away, his face flushing. "I needed my broom," he explained, nodding weakly in Draco's direction. Draco gave a small smile and shrugged.

"Oh?" She pulled in close to Remus, a single eyebrow lifting as she met his gaze.

Remus sighed. "Dumbledore made a poor choice in destination," he gestured to the field. "They're a little shaken, to say the least."

"Bad decision or…," she leaned in close, whispering so softly that Harry barely heard. "...a test?"

Harry spun around to glare at the window—Dumbledore's window far away in the distance. "Wanted to see how badly the goods were damaged?" he shouted, shaking with pent up fury.

A warm hand touched his arm, drawing his eyes to endless pools of mercury. "It's okay now," Draco pleaded. "Let's get inside before everyone arrives."

Harry wasn't ready to let it go. It was bad enough they had to come back, but this? Draco tugged on his sleeve, another forced smile on his face. "If you bring the walls of the castle crashing down in a rage, Farren won't get sorted today."

Harry blinked in surprise, turning back to find Farren, slack-jawed and openly staring at him amongst a pile of their belongings. A slight flush prickled across his cheeks. "Right, I almost forgot. The Sorting Ceremony." Harry sighed, smiling weakly at Farren. "I guess I can leave the castle standing just one more day, but tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow, I'll help," Draco promised, color returning to his pale face as he smirked.

For a moment it looked as if Tonks wanted to say something, lips slightly parted. She pressed them together, frowning before shrugging. "I don't think there's anything in my job description about protecting the castle from angry students. Enemies, yes, but not angry students."

She looped an arm through Remus' and with a flick of her wrist levitated all the trunks and started walking up the slope, turning around briefly to beckon that they follow.

Harry watched as she continued her climb, eyes catching on the spot where Draco had once come crashing down, a spray of blood splashed across the freshly fallen snow appearing in his mind. He shuddered at the memory.

"Come on," Draco whispered in his ear. "Let's go for a fly."


End file.
